Captains' curse

The only worse job that comes to mind is being cricket captain of England.

It's tolerable, I suppose, if you have the stoic philosophy of the great Archie MacLaren. Castigated for some quixotic field placings as two Australian batsmen flayed his bowlers, he replied: 'You clearly don't understand the rules. I am not permitted to station my fielders in the neighbouring streets.' MacLaren's captaincy record was terrible. He won only four Test matches out of 22, underachieved by Ian Botham, whose leadership strike rate was nought out of 12.

Michael Atherton has done much better than that and I sympathise with this decent man who has saved us again and again with the bat and is now taking all the predictable flak. The ferocity of it stems, of course, from the ludicrous triumphalism accorded England's first Test victory in Birmingham.

Anyone with the remotest knowledge of cricket had already backed Australia to win the series because, man for man, they are by far the superior team.

Atherton has made some mistakes as most of us, from time to time, do. But when you've been handed a rifle platoon to confront a squadron of tanks the blame for the inevitable should at least be apportioned.

But that has rarely been the way it works in English cricket. So many captaincy reigns have ended in tears, so many incumbents have failed to make old bones afterwards, that the ghoulish may feel there is less a jinx than a curse on the job.

The poor man was in a boat collision in fog in the North Sea and drowned, aged 48.

PERCY CHAPMAN (captain 1924-31) won back the Ashes but was later condemned for featherbrained tactics and sacked. He died, aged 61. Douglas Jardine, the most controversial of all England captains (1931-34) because of his Bodyline tactics against Donald Bradman, was dumped as an embarrassment to our cricket establishment and died, aged 57.

Wally Hammond, (1938-1947), the most regal of batsmen, actually renounced professionalism to assume the captaincy in the days when only an amateur could lead the side. It brought him only disillusion and grief after his team were massacred in Australia immediately after the War.

His marriages crumbled and so did his business ventures. He took to the bottle and fled to South Africa where, to keep body and soul together, he became grounds-man at Natal University. He died, alone and in poverty, at 62.

Brian Close (1966-7) won six of the seven Tests he captained and was due to lead England to a winter series when he was involved in an incident with a spectator at Birmingham. He was summarily fired. Mike Denness (captain 1973-75) fired himself after three Test matches in Australia when Lillee and Thomson were at their fastest.

It took a great deal of courage but, obviously, he was never considered as a captain again.

I have run into Close and Den-ness around the circuit this year and both, I am happy to say, are in buoyant form. Long may they continue to be so.

But what of Michael Atherton?

Well, he said he would step down if England lost the current series to Australia and I guess he might as well do so with dignity before he is unceremoniously pushed.

Since he is by far the best opening batsman we have, I assume he will continue to play and be thankful that he no longer has to face those ravenous Press conferences, where a long silence can be interpreted as either dumb insolence or a geriatric condition, or a sharp riposte can lead to crucifixion in the morrow's headlines.

It's a terrible job, captaining England. A captain is only as good as his No 11 and to carry the can for a spate of dropped catches is like being court-martialled because your riflemen's bullets bounced off the tanks.

Fortunately, Michael Atherton is of sturdy Lancashire stock. He has high intelligence, a wide range of talents and, hopefully, will laugh off the grim fates of so many of his predecessors as sheer coincidence.